How Many New Isms Does Contemporary Life Have? Here's a Little Ism Dictionary | 100 Big Questions About Life

Every "xx-ism" is a microcosm of its era.

The word "ism" is a bit heavy — it sounds like a weighty hat to wear. When Hu Shi argued for "talking less about isms," he said: "For convenience of spreading an idea, people use one or two words to stand for a concrete proposition, so it gets called such-and-such an 'ism.' That is exactly the weakness and danger of 'isms': no abstract noun in the world can ever cover the full concrete substance of any one person's or school's argument."

Words like "existentialism," "populism," and "Dadaism" — the kind that only turn up in academic papers — we'll set aside for now. There are also some "proper" old-school isms: setting an impossibly high bar for something is "perfectionism"; holding onto an (unrealistic) ideal gets summed up as "idealism"; caring about the practical and skipping the vision is defined as "realism." Drop these into a sentence and they tend to sound a bit vague, even a little hollow and grandiose.

Happily, these days we can spot a welcome change: the words "ism" produces have gotten smaller and more specific, moving out of politics, philosophy, and art and seeping into the daily details of rice and cooking oil. Take eating alone — it already splits into plenty of isms: vegetarianism, for people who eat vegetables but no meat; "light eating"-ism, for small, frequent, low-sugar, low-calorie meals; extreme-foodie-ism, embodied by Bear Grylls, and so on. Meanwhile words like singlehood-ism, money-worship-ism, and "sophisticated egoist" have practically become standard shorthand for describing someone as having "a distinctive style and firm convictions."

You might notice that no matter how these "-ism" words evolve, they always carry a bit of the era's flavor. After enough talk of "consumerism," which ties everything to buying, buying, buying, "anti-consumerism," guided by the philosophy of decluttering, immediately started popping up. Not long after office "white-collar culture" took off, "snack-ism" quickly became a trend. As TV dramas and anime leaned harder on plot-defying power-ups that ignore story logic, the term ""convenientism"" — mocking mindless plotlines — naturally followed. Plenty of such words have been coined abroad too: there's "Economicism," roughly translatable as "letting economics jargon take over the world"-ism, plus "letting finance jargon take over the world"-ism (finance-ism) and "letting tech jargon take over the world"-ism (IT-ism). There's even a word for people who can turn any argument into a deflection: "Whataboutism," which describes something like a couple fighting where one partner, trying to dodge responsibility, starts listing the other's faults one by one — ask "why didn't you mop the floor after your shower?" and instead of answering, they fire back, "and what about the time you didn't do the dishes after dinner?"

Though "ism" has clearly downgraded from a heavy hat to a small label, the Chinese word for it still looks far too serious at a glance. No matter — we've built a "New Isms of Contemporary Life" dictionary. Some entries come from a notable phenomenon or saying; others describe a group of people who share some common trait. With these more entertaining isms on hand, maybe you'll be more willing to drop your prejudice against the word "ism" altogether.

The Isms Contributed by Today's Internet

The internet lets every trivial little label get saved and spread. Post even the most mundane thing online, and you'll find people who think the same way, and that coalesces into an "ism" carrying a sense of group identity or belonging. For example:

Meme-ism (《复读机主义》, "copy-machine-ism"): the trend of the online personality slowly turning parrot. Whether the question is how to keep up with every trending joke or how to live a life that scores well with everyone else, the answer never changes: apply the copy-machine spirit to the fullest.

Face-Only-ism (《看脸主义》): "looks are justice" — a contemporary mysticism that believes one can read someone's true face through layers of filters.

Marking-is-Reading-ism (《收藏等于已读主义》): a form of contemporary internet hoarding syndrome, built on the firm belief that anything you bookmark online counts as "read." Bookmarking brings pure joy; mention "cleaning up your bookmarks folder" and the procrastination kicks in instantly.

AWSL-ism (《缩写主义》, "abbreviation-ism"): does AWSL mean "Ah Wei is dead," "Ah Wei lost," "Ah, I'm going to sleep," or "Ah, I'm an idiot"? The answer is: any of the above. Today's internet slang doesn't always translate across different communities, but it all seems to share one goal: writing reading difficulties straight into the human genome.

Shut-Up-ism (《别问主义》): fluently deploying the sentence pattern "Don't ask — if you ask, it's just XXX" to state an opinion. Whether or not anyone is actually asking why, the performer dramatically pretends there's an audience and delivers a self-question, self-answer routine.

Whitewashed-ism (《洗白主义》): originally a kind of purity complex that only flares up online — the psychological tic of habitually denying any "smear," even a true one, thrown your way. After mastering the secret art of "the deeper the roasting, the bigger the fan following," it flipped into a reverse strategy: self-deprecating first, on the logic that "if I roast myself in tribute, you can't very well roast me too."

Poisonous-Chicken-Soup-ism (《毒鸡汤主义》): a branch of "defeatist culture." Some young people, tired of upbeat inspirational "chicken soup for the soul," instead swear by lines of pure psychological arsenic — the signature quote being "life always has its ups and downs and downs and downs and downs." The idea is to hit rock bottom through sheer bleakness and bounce back optimistic, a jinxing mindset that says: since life is already this defeated, might as well fight poison with poison and turn two negatives into a positive.

Snowflake-ism (《雪花主义》): not the "Snowflake generation" sense of fragility that can't take pressure — this is a branch of feed-flooding-ism. Specifically: the moment something bad happens in society, the entire internet floods with "no snowflake is innocent," producing the effect of watching snow fall online, free of charge. It has a sibling: "light-a-candle-online-whenever-someone-dies-ism."

Anti-Pigman-ism (《《大猪蹄子》》-ism, "big pig's-trotter"-ism): a coy variant of "men are all trash" that caught on through hit female-lead dramas. Its spirit runs in a straight line from the label "straight-male" (《直男》) — at bottom, both are the "women are from Venus, men are from Mars" style of griping that runs through relationships between men and women.

Light-ism (《轻主义》): "light" — an elegant prefix that achieves a hazy, have-it-both-ways ambiguity. Don't believe it? Try on "light luxury"-ism (luxury that isn't that expensive), "light fasting"-ism (eating less but not going without entirely), and "light eating"-ism (so few calories that, rounded off, it's basically nothing). Doesn't it feel like it's hinting at something, while also saying nothing at all?

I-Like-ism (《我喜欢至上主义》, "my-preference-comes-first"-ism): a declaration that says "whether or not anyone cares, I'm staking my position here." Signature phrases include "I care about / value / like XX" and "What I want, I want now." It shows up woven into brand manifestos crafted to court young consumers, and just as often gets tacked on after the names of idols across every fandom.

Same-People-ism (《墙头草主义》, "fence-sitter"-ism): opinion on the internet shifts with every gust of wind, but the people online are really the same crowd every time — which raises a suspicion: the ones cheering "XX won" and the ones jeering "XX lost," the ones praising a Durex ad copy as genius and the ones slamming the Durex-HEYTEA collab Weibo post as tacky, the ones insisting "spare the rod on a brat and you're ruining society" and the ones insisting "anyone who spanks a kid comes from a toxic family and is ruining society" — they might well be the same people. Which side you land on doesn't really matter; singing whatever song fits the mountain you're standing on is the whole point.

FFF-ism (FFF 《主义》): its flagship organization is the "FFF Corps," a sprawling anti-romance league made up of self-described single dogs. Their three battle cries are "Burn the (heretical) heterosexuals," "May all lovers under heaven turn out to be siblings separated at birth," and "Public displays of affection shall be struck down." Members mostly haunt video bullet-comments, Weibo complaint threads, and forum replies; their sworn enemy is Love-Bird-ism (《秀恩爱主义》), which thrives one tab over, in everyone's WeChat Moments.

A Few Isms That Come in Opposing Pairs

Almost every doctrine has a rival school, and a lot of these words really do come in pairs: for every "male chauvinism," there's a "female chauvinism"; for every childless "DINK-ism" (Double-Income-No-Kids-ism), there's a "how could you not have kids"-ism (U-Must-Have-Kids-ism) pushing procreation. Here, we've rounded up a few "isms" that face off directly and happen to form neat opposing pairs:

Hot-ism (《热点主义》) vs. Cold-ism (《热点冷感主义》):

The former lives by the principle "wherever there's a hot topic, I'm there" — front-row seats for gossip, opening-night for premieres, only chasing top-tier idols. The latter is the exact opposite: waiting until a hot topic has gone cold and the dust has settled, chasing only doomed "cursed" ships, and only watching a new show once it has fully aired and word of mouth is good.

Danmu-On-ism (《必开弹幕主义》) vs. Danmu-Off-ism (《不开弹幕主义》):

The former loves the chatter of a screen crammed with scrolling bullet comments; the latter, naturally, can't stand the noise when even watching a video quietly isn't an option. In truth, neither camp has many die-hard believers — most people's favorite mode is switching back and forth between the two.

Spoiler-ism (《求剧透主义》) vs. Anti-Spoiler-ism (《别剧透主义》):

In an age where you might "delete every social app to dodge spoilers, only to get spoiled in the bullet comments of a completely different show," staying spoiler-free is a far harder feat than seeking spoilers out. If you genuinely want 100% spoiler immunity these days, short of plugging your ears against every conversation, closing your eyes to every trending topic, and buying your ticket or finding your copy the instant it drops, your only real option is cutting off the internet and retreating to the mountains.

Filter-ism (《滤镜主义》) vs. None-Filter-ism (《反滤镜主义》)

Both isms have long since expanded from selfies to entire outlooks on life. "Smog blankets our city today, hazy as a fairyland" — that's a city's official account applying Filter-ism. "This 70-episode drama probably only has 35 episodes' worth of usable plot" — that's a fan applying None-Filter-ism against the show. The paradox may be that plenty of people run the first ism on themselves while insisting on the second one for everyone else.

Tag-ism (《贴标签主义》) vs. Tear-the-Tag-ism (《撕标签主义》)

From celebrities' favorite pastime of building a public persona, to young people today self-mockingly declaring "I'm totally an X-type person"... the former runs on the enthusiastic principle of "if there's a circle, join it; if there's a label, wear it." The latter goes cold the whole way through: no bio, no personal tagline, refusing to be a slash-career "multi-hyphenate," and competing instead to be the most faceless person around.

How to Use Isms to Redefine Life's Attitudes

Back in 2003, the girl group S.H.E. released a song called Half-Sugar-ism (《半糖主义》). "Half sugar" is milk-tea ordering lingo, a sweetness level somewhere between "cloyingly sweet" and "sugar-free and flavorless" — and the "Half-Sugar-ism" the song describes became, for plenty of people a decade or so ago, a whole philosophy of love. We can follow that lead now and rename a few attitudes toward life that have caught on in recent years:

Milk-Tea-ism (《奶茶主义》): given how far milk-tea shops' knack for coining terms has come, they may have invented more drink-industry jargon than we have terms for love: "low-cal sugar / less sugar / a little less sugar / just a touch less sugar / no extra sugar / extra sweet / freakishly sweet." As long as you can't give up this cute-looking, sweet-tasting drink for even a day, you remain, for that day, a proud Milk-Tea-ist.

Anti-Minimalism (《就不搞断舍离主义》, "refuse-to-declutter"-ism): adherents of this school love to say, "Sure, it's a mess, but it's an organized mess — I know exactly where everything is." They firmly believe that scrubbing your life spotless through decluttering is entirely unnecessary, and that the chaos of "impossible to untangle, no matter how you try" is the real truth of existence.

We-Are-Leeks-ism (《韭菜主义》): the belief, held by some, that human beings are essentially a patch of chives — a vegetable people love comparing both themselves and others to. They claim that all of us are really walking the same painful growth path: forever cut down, only to sprout back the moment the spring wind blows.

Moyu-ism (《摸鱼主义》, "fishing"-ism, i.e. slacking off): unofficial work disguised as diligent labor. By now it has grown past the old three-move combo of slacking, coasting, and idle chat into something almost philosophical: how to actively let life invade work, rather than passively letting work invade life.

C'est-la-vie-ism (《多大点事主义》, "no-big-deal"-ism): when trouble strikes, its adherents excel at the shrug-and-move-on trifecta — "what can you do / that's just life / gotta eat somehow" — a self-hypnosis routine that produces a (one-sided) truce between oneself and life.

Anti-Tiktok-ism (《反抖音主义》): treats Douyin as a modern-day scourge. In practice: "hear Douyin background music playing in public, flee tens of meters in the opposite direction"; "won't set foot in any shop playing a Douyin viral hit"; "minding my own business listening to a song, see a comment saying 'blew up thanks to Douyin,' and think, WTF?!"; "won't date anyone who scrolls Douyin all day"; "product has a Douyin-famous version? No thanks, not buying."

Anli-ism (《安利主义》, "Amway"-ism, i.e. relentless recommending): a "what I love, I must inflict on you" personality type that recommends things to everyone, risk be damned. There's the hard-sell faction, who'd practically tie you to a chair and force you to finish watching, and the psychological-pressure faction, who ambush you out of nowhere with "did you finish it yet, was it good?" Styles vary widely, and the branches are many.

Holy-Cat-ism (《拜猫主义》): a quasi-religious ism built on the faith that "there is no problem a cat cannot solve." Believers don't necessarily own a cat, but their lives are shrines to cats everywhere: cat-meme stickers in every chat, coming home from work and rebuilding one's faith in life through "cloud cat-raising" (following other people's cats online). Behind every bishop (internet-famous cat) stand one or more devoted priests or nuns tending to its food and daily needs (while trailing it with a DSLR or iPhone at all times). One emblem of this ism is Starbucks' cat-paw cup.

Doggy-ism (《狗头主义》, "dog-head"-ism): a way of speaking and behaving that describes everything in terms of dogs, and it can cut either way, praise or insult. Tack a dog-head emoji onto the end of a snide remark, and it instantly flips into friendly banter. Call a friend "you dog" while trading insults, and it instantly signals "we're close enough that nothing either of us says will land wrong." And of course, applying labels like "single dog," "grad-school-exam dog," or "shipping-fandom dog" to yourself is really a kind of restrained self-deprecating boast. As the animal with the strongest presence in today's language, the dog carries a meaning for humans best summed up as a deconstructive kind of meme where "I roast everything, myself included."

OK-Fine-ism (《及格主义》, "passing-grade"-ism): a life attitude descended from "Buddha-like" detachment, built on the idea that "a passing grade is itself a pleasant surprise." In practice: realizing you went a full ten minutes reading a book without touching your phone — cause for celebration. Joining an online discussion without running into a single troll — genuinely rare. An influencer-famous restaurant that's actually decent — unexpected. A domestic TV drama that isn't too terrible — worth marking the occasion. In short, it's the elegant version of "give me one ray of sunshine and I'll light up."

Anti-ism-ism (《主义去死主义》, "death-to-isms"-ism): opposes turning everything in the world into an "ism." Its stance is so stylish and its conviction so firm that the very claim — "refuse to elevate everything to the level of an ism" — ends up sublimating itself into a brand-new ism.

Cover image and illustrations: Zheng Shuya.